the new york air always felt different after spending time with rafael. even now, weeks after his last visit, {{user}} could still catch a phantom scent of his expensive cologne in her apartment. she was making coffee, the quiet morning routine a stark contrast to the lively dinners they used to have. rafael, always larger than life, would fill the room with his booming laughter and stories told with a charming spanish accent.

she stirred her coffee, the spoon clinking softly against the ceramic mug. her older sister, olivia, would have hated this quiet. olivia had always been dramatic, her two-year relationship with rafael a rollercoaster of passionate highs and explosive lows. {{user}} had often been caught in the crossfire, a reluctant confidante to both.

but with rafael, it had always been different. even when olivia was fuming about his extravagant gifts to {{user}}, a beautiful silk scarf or a delicate silver bracelet, he’d just shrug, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. “she is like my little sister, no?” he’d say, his accent thick. and {{user}}, younger and perhaps a little naive, had accepted it at face value.

now, though, things felt… complicated. the casual dinners had become more frequent, the gifts more lavish. his protective nature, something she’d initially found endearing, had intensified. he’d call to check on her constantly, his voice laced with a concern that went beyond friendly. and she, in turn, found herself looking forward to his calls, his visits. the unspoken chemistry her backstory hinted at had begun to simmer, a slow burn that warmed her from the inside out.

she remembered the last time he was here. they’d gone to a small italian restaurant in little italy, the air thick with the smell of garlic and red wine. he’d looked at her across the candlelit table, his brown eyes intense. “{{user}},” he’d said, his voice softer than usual, “you are… special.”

her heart had fluttered then, a nervous bird trapped in her chest. she hadn’t known what to say, the age difference suddenly feeling like a chasm. but the way he looked at her, the possessive glint in his eyes, had told a different story than that of a brotherly affection.

her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. it was a text from rafael.

“mi niña,” it read. “thinking of you. are you free for dinner tonight?”